


The weeping angel

by SiriusJohnPotter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Gen, Missions, Mutant Powers, Mutants, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Team Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 12:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17960210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiriusJohnPotter/pseuds/SiriusJohnPotter
Summary: An assassin regarded highly as a ghost story. Rumored to be trained by the KGB. A kill count of over 200 yet she is only a child. I've always hated the rumors floating around about me. People talk about me as if I don't exist. I wish didn't. I wish the rumors weren't true. But I'm making up for it, wiping out the red. Now I'm part of Strike Team Delta. Now I'm an Avenger.





	The weeping angel

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first ever fanfiction and it’s probably terrible but yeah. I have never read the comics so everything I know about the red room is from the movies and agent carter so probably not very cannon compliant. I have never seen the x-men films either so I know fuck all about that either. I don’t own anything to do with marvel. The only thing that’s mine are the OCs. I’m pretty nervous about posting so please review and tell me what you think. Good? Bad? Fit for nothing but the bin? Idk, you tell me.

I walked down the bustling New York Street. Whilst I was used to being around this many people, I still preferred my own solitude. Too many variables, risks, unnecessary dangers. But then, I reflected, the world was full of dangers. Life was dangerous, but there was no alternative. No split second endings. Not for me at least. This is my story, from assassin to spy, from killing to saving. From bad to good. This is my story. My life.

* * *

Out of all my missions, all my assassinations, this was the one I was most nervous about. No, not nervous. That's the wrong word, I don't get nervous. At least, I'm not allowed to. Emotions are a weakness and there is no room for weakness. The same monotonous mantra as always played over in my head before I could even attempt to resist the conditioning. It was hopeless even trying, I only went in the room 2 weeks ago, I hadn't even done much wrong. If anything, it was just to get me out of their hair for a while. I'm probably the most… Human out of all the girls in the program. If I wasn't so powerful and good at what I do, I have no doubt that I would have been disabled a long time ago. 

But back to the mission, assassinating the Black Widow. After years of chasing her down, sending in disposable assets, they finally brought out the big guns. You see, I'm not just red room trained, I don't just rely on my genetically enhanced features. Nope, I'm a mutant. And a powerful one at that. I'm 11 years old, yet I have the best success rating out of every girl in the program. But that doesn't mean that every mission is a breeze. This is the toughest assignment I have ever been or will be assigned. Not only do I have to face one of the best assets the red room has ever made, I also have the added threat of the avengers.

I was suddenly snapped out of my thoughts by the comm. crackling to life. “Asset, the location should be approaching on your left hand side. Prepare to get into position and commence stage 3.”

I ducked my head down and brushed my hair behind my ear, clicking the comm. as I did so before muttering under my breath “Confirm, the tower is up ahead, is the AI down?”

I hoped no one could hear me, I was already getting looks due to my outfit, I didn't need to be seen talking to myself or some moron would start interfering. They wouldn't be able to understand me of course, we were conversing in code as was standard for communications. Code was the language used by the red room to keep its affairs secret. No one outside even knew it existed, let alone be able to understand it. It was a funny language, similar to Russian but completely different at the same time. To any New Yorkers brushing past me, it would sound like I was muttering gobbledegook. 

After receiving a confirmation from HQ, I brushed my faded yellow skirt down and took a deep breath as I approached the tower, keeping my eyes downcast and being sure to put on a slight limp. It didn't take much to fake it, my ankle was starting to ache with the lack of support from the tattered Ballet pumps I was wearing. I'd done a longer than usual training session the day before, and my body did not seem to be happy with me. I finally reached the tower, and slinked around to the back, quietly making my way into the undercover area. The AI, called Jarvie I think, would normally be protecting this area, but HQ had him otherwise occupied. I sniffed and made a few tears run down my face, before settling into the corner near the door, protected from the rain that had just started falling down from the heavens. I sniffed again, hoping Intel had their information right and the target was actually in the tower. Hearing the door click open, I internally smiled, knowing that the plan had worked. I pretended not to notice her until she got much closer; remembering to regulate my hearing to what a normal girl of this age would be able to hear. My cover looked up at her with tearful, despairing eyes and gasped when she saw who it was. I scrambled to my feet and took a few panicked steps backwards. She froze where she was standing, raising her hands slowly to show she meant no harm. “I'm sorry”, I gasped, making my chest heave and taking in large gulps of air, “I'm sorry miss, I j-just wanted s-somewhere to s-s-stay out of the rain.” 

“It's alright,” she consolidated, taking a step forward before stopping when she saw me flinch away. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

“Y-you’re not?”

“No, you don't have to be afraid. Do you know who I am?”

“You're an avenger.” I replied, looking up at her with big green eyes, not unlike her own. This was going exactly as planned, I thought smugly to myself. Intel showed that the Black Widow had a weakness for kids, thought to be because of her childhood and training. Everything on this mission had been carefully planned out; there was no room for mistakes. My eye colour, strikingly similar to hers, to remind her of herself at my age. My clothes, dirty and tattered, to show I had been outside for quite some time. But that didn't mean that everything couldn't go horrifically wrong, this was the Black Widow after all. I couldn't afford to get sloppy, to let my guard down, otherwise I'd end up dead. Worse, the red room would get me. Whilst I had never experienced the punishment for a failed mission first hand, the screams had echoed hauntingly through the cold, concrete walls. Screams of pain, begging for mercy, promising to do better. It was never spoken about, but no one ever failed a mission twice. 

Repressing a shudder at the thought of the creative torture I would be sure to face should I fail, I mentally berated myself for losing focus. The Widow had knelt down in front of me and was extending a steady hand towards with, with a warm and friendly smile upon her face. Reaching out to take it, I gave her a watery smile back. The second my fingers latched onto her wrist however, I gave it a sharp twist and promptly snapped the bone before jumping to my feet and dropping my cover.

Although she barely flinched as her bone broke clean in two, the look of pure shock and surprise on her face was almost funny. She didn't even attempt to cover her emotions, allowing herself a second to take in the situation before slipping into a fighting stance, letting her limp wrist hang beside her, a snarl clear in her voice as she addressed me. 

“You know, Madame really needs to learn to stop sending agents after me. It's almost like she enjoys having them sent back in pieces.”

“The Black Widow.”, I glanced over her with a predatory look in my eyes, “Highly regarded as the most well-known and dangerous asset the red room ever made. Extremely gifted at espionage and infiltration. Longest successful mission run ever, until I came along at least. And look what you've become. A traitor, working for the government of the USA, and above all, a do-gooder.”

“You’re a little young aren't you?” She said, not responding to my little dig. “Normally the girls they send at least look like they know how to tie a shoe lace.”

I stopped listening, my keen ears instead picking up on the faint sounds of footsteps running down the stairs towards us. Shit, the avengers must know somethings up, but how? The Widow couldn't have contacted them, I had checked her for electronics as soon as she came near enough and there was no comm. Or any other form of communication. The robot might have alerted them, but HQ had said they had it temporarily disabled. But somehow, they knew, and were obviously coming to stop me. Interrupting her meaningless stalling, I swept her legs out from underneath her before launching myself onto her. After all, what did I have to lose?


End file.
